


And I Will Wait

by Goodgriefmartincrieff



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, M/M, No homophobia in this universe, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodgriefmartincrieff/pseuds/Goodgriefmartincrieff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ferry always comes in on Sunday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Will Wait

The ferry always came into town on Sunday morning, and left at sunset.

March 12, 1968  
Dean was shaving when he heard glass breaking on the linoleum floor. The sound startled him and his razor jerked, causing a drop of blood to form on his neck. "Fuck." he said as he walked out of the bathroom. "Cas?" there was no response. "Cas, are you alright? What's-what's wrong?" 

Castiel stood in the middle of their kitchen, pale faced and surrounded by broken pieces of blue glass that used to be a plate. He was holding the day's mail. 

"Cas?"  
"Dean" he said, his voice an echo of what it normally was.  
"Cas what the hell is going on?"

Castiel shakily handed over the mail. The top leaded was addressed from the US Selective Service System, to Dean Winchester.

A deadly silence took over the kitchen. There was bacon burning in a pan, but neither of them noticed. Dean turned over the envelope and ripped it open.

Your hands are shaking. Why are they shaking? He thought.

His eyes skimmed the paper for a date  
"you are hereby directed to present yourself. . . physical examination. . . reporting on May 16th, 1968"  
May 16th. Two months. Two months until he had to leave for war.

"When?" cried out Castiel, voice devoid of emotion.  
"May 16th" Castiel looked down at the floor, clenching his jaw to keep from sobbing. "You don't have to go."

"What?"  
"We could go to Canada."   
"Cas-"  
"No, listen. I know that's what Uriel did. Dad was furious, but I know he lives in Vancouver. We could stay with him until we find a place."  
Dean was silent.   
"I don't care what the others say, it's not cowardly. Why should you have to fight in a war you don't believe in?"  
Dean closed his eyes. "Cas. I can't. I have to do this."  
Castiel's eyes looked up to Dean's, hurt written all over them.  
"Dean you're not a soldi-"  
"Cas I have to!" Dean burst out, not meaning to yell.  
"Then I'll enlist too."  
"You have asthma."  
The tears that had been threatening to spill over Castiel's eyes finally did.  
"God damn it Dean, why are you insisting so much on dying?"  
Dean stepped over to Castiel, glass crunching under his feet. He embraced Castiel and realized that he was crying as well.   
"I'm not going to die, baby. I promise"

XXXXX

The ferry always left on Sunday afternoons.

Castiel had never seen so many people on the dock before the war. After the drafts started coming in, however, every Sunday it seemed like half of the town was saying goodbye to someone on the ferry.

Castiel gripped Dean as tightly as he could, hearing his heart rate and vowing to remember it until he came back. 

"I love you."  
"I love you too."

Dean kissed Castiel, a kiss full of grief. 

"I'm coming back, you know. I don't know when, but I'm coming back."  
"I know. And I will wait for you. As long as it takes."

"I love you."  
"I love you too."

XXXXX

Castiel had not received a letter in over a year. And yet he had not received the news of his death either. So Castiel was hopeful. Every Sunday he woke up before the sunrise, put on the suit he wore when he said goodbye to Dean. 

"Just in case he forgets what I look like" he thinks.

He always watches the ferry arrive and holds his breath in anticipation, before exhaling in disappointment. 

He then gets coffee from the nearby restaurant, leaves a small tip, and heads back to the dock. He sits on a bench with a clear view to the ferry. It leaves at 6:00 pm sharp. Cas waits for about 5 minutes afterwards before heading home.

He always goes home disappointed.

XXXXX

"Castiel you need to find someone else."

"I appreciate your concern, Samuel, but I promised Dean I would wait for him. I love him"

"Castiel I'm like  your brother, and I love you, but you can't keep spending your Sundays like this." she gestured to the dock. "It's crazy"

"It's not crazy, Samuel. It's love. I move on with my life 6 days a week. But my Sundays will always belong to Dean."

"It's been ten years"

"And I will wait sixty more if I have to."

XXXXX

October 18th, 1992

The ferry always came on Sunday mornings. Charlie knew that. What she didn't know was who the man in the outdated suit waited for. She had worked in the Starbucks for three years now (the old restaurant had closed down and been replaced) and she was fascinated by the man in the old suit. He always came in at 8:30, bought a tall black coffee,  always stuffing two dollars into the tip jar before leaving 10 minutes later.

And then he sat on a bench and waited. For something. Or someone.

"Pam, do you know who that is?" she asked her most valued customer and friend. 

Pam looked over where Charlie was pointing to.   
"That's Castiel Milton."  
"Ok that's great but I don't know who Castiel Milton is."  
"He's my accountant. He's a lovely person, but he's a little...off"  
"what do you mean 'off'?"  
"He's waiting for his lover."  
Charlie furrowed her brows."  I don't understand. What's so bad about that?"  
"His lover was drafted in the war."  
"Which wa-"  
"Vietnam."  
"Oh." Charlie froze. "Fuck."

XXXXX  
October 25th, 1992

The suit was threadbare, and he had had it adjusted more than 4 times. Not to mention the patches that he had sown on over the years. But he had to wear it. The suit was essential. 

After all these years he still held his breath whenever the ferry unloaded. But once again Dean was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and stood up to go get his coffee.

"Cas!"

Castiel turned around. No one had called him Cas in over two decades. A middle aged man was walking towards him from the ferry. His face was weathered with age and sadness. His hair was mostly grey, with patches of unturned  light brown at the back of his head. His green eyes hid behind a pair of glasses. 

"Castiel!"

Cas waited until the man reached his bench.

"I can't believe it. It's been over 24 years. And you waited."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

The man's face dropped. "Cas. It's me. It's Dean," 

"Please don't call me Cas. I've only let one person call me that."

"Cas. It's me. I'm back."

Castiel looked the man over. Right eye color and height,  and freckles. But he was too old. Much too old. 

"I'm sorry but you're not him. I don't know what kind of sick joke you're playing, but it's not funny."

"Cas..."

"No. You don't get to call me Cas. Dean has sandy brown hair and he always has a 5 o clock shadow after 8 am. Dean doesn't have wrinkles. Dean doesn't have glasses."  
He swallowed back tears and spoke quietly.  
"You're not Dean. I'm sorry, but you're not who I've been waiting for."

**Author's Note:**

> Supernatural belongs to the CW. Copyright infringement not intended.  
> Unbetta'd, all mistakes are wholly mine.


End file.
